


The Staff of Maestras

by Darksaphira



Series: Darksaphira's Story Chest [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassins, Cults, Dark Magic, Demons, Mages, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Mercenaries, Priests, Secret Organizations, Spirits, Wizards, thieves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-11-26 15:45:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksaphira/pseuds/Darksaphira
Summary: An ancient and powerful magical staff is unearthed after a long time. It's power is a thing of fables and it is said to kill those not strong enough to bear it. Wich is exactly what Axios expects to happen when he suddenly comes into contact with the thing. No one is more shocked than himself when it doesn't.Many groups are interested in obtaining the staff from him and they all use different methods to claim it. He wished nothing more than to just be rid of the thing, but that seems to be the one thing it won't do for him.This summary is terrible, please read and see for yourself.





	1. Chapter 1

One of the brutes cursed at the door and tried ramming is again. Axios frowned and took a cautious step back. This smelled like disaster, even if the mage could not find any magic traps on the door. There had been enough non-magical traps on the way here and these guys were going to just run this door down. He kept silent though because he knew his position within this group was only protected by the fact they needed him functioning, not due to any form of respect. Xanthos wanted him here and so he was, that was all there was to be said. 

While he had been musing the warriors had apparently wizened up a bit and someone had actually found a way to open the door. At least someone was yelling for him to ‘move it’. And so he did, after ensuring that none of the others had met a terrible fate for entering the chamber behind the massive door. The air was stale, like expected from a probably centuries old chamber like this but it was even more so than everywhere else in this ruin. There were runes all over the floor, the walls and even the ceiling. He studied them with a frown but they did not match any language the mage had any knowledge of. At least there did not seem to be any magic inhabiting them, or none he could sense.  
That was a rather hard task in itself, mostly because of the subject of their desires. Embedded inside a dark crystal-altar in the middle of the room was a black and silver staff, as high as a man was tall and with a similar crystal on the tip of it; the Staff of Maestras. It emitted an overwhelming magical aura, something that would probably throw a powerful mage off-center. And Axios was anything but that, his powers and knowledge were limited at best.  
He took a steadying breath as he looked the thing over for obvious traps. It would not do to have the result of months, no years of research and hard work ruined because he was going to be rash in his judgment.  
Or at least he attempted to, because as he slowly crept through the room trying to analyze everything at once someone simply slapped him on the back to push him forward. 

“Move it, Mageling.” The warrior demanded and laughed as the mage in question stumbled forward and let out a startled undignified yell. The others quickly joined in.

Time seemed to slow down for a moment and Axios was sure he should have ended up face first on the floor, not for the first time by a long shot, but by some twist of fate he saw his hand stretch out and suddenly close around the wood of the staff in the center of the room. He was sure, he knew he should have missed it by a good bit and he really would have preferred that as well. He closed his eyes as his hand closed around the wood.

The laughter died as the crystal altar simply melted away into the ground and the staff started to emit a soft light. The mage stared at the staff in his hand bewildered. He should be dead, by all means. He knew that, he should be one of the many victims of this things and nothing else. 

“Hey, give that back!” One of his companions demanded. Axios spun around staring at the group of four for a moment, still uncomprehending. “Master Xanthos wants that thing, hand it over.” 

Now understanding finally dawned and he lifted the staff in his hand and tried to hand it over… only to find his fingers refusing to open from around the artifact. His eyes bulged. “I can’t!” He announced. The leader of the warriors grunted. 

“We’ll take it, with your hand if we have to.” He announced. 

As the fighters brandished their swords the outnumbered mage let out a yelp. As his former companions started to move on him he watched as the staff moved in it’s own accord. The staffs glow changed, moving inside the crystal, and he felt the tug of magic at work through him and suddenly four magic missiles shot out of it and at his attackers.  
Shocked he stumbled backwards a few steps, he could do one at once and even that not at all times. He tended to fail entirely under pressure, which made him wholly inadequate as a battle mage. These though, had been perfect, found their targets without fail and flung them through the chamber as well. And it had been four shots at once. 

“N-No! Don’t!” Axios squeaked. He didn’t want anyone hurt. He just wanted to be away from here. 

_As You Wish_

The next moment the world faded into a haze as he felt magic grip him and warp him across the lands.

* * *

“What do you mean he’s gone?” The wizards angry voice carries through the dark chamber. Everything is covered in obsidian and purple flames provide only a shoddy light. 

The leader of the group of fighters is kneeling in front of the central throne of the room and stares up at the robed figure in it in horror. “That mage just took it and vanished with it! I knew he’d just be trouble.” 

There was a moment of icy silence as pale red eyes stared back at the sniveling man at his feet. He knew that particular mage was way to cowed to do something like that, plus he was way too incompetent to actually use the staff. He should not have survived a touch. He lifted his hand and a whispered arcane word left his lips. The man in front of him slumped. Xanthos wasn’t known as a forgiving man and he hated being lied to.  
That did not change the fact that the mageling and the staff were gone though. He contemplated sending more of his underlings after him, but only for a second. 

“Izirah, Ka’zakh come forth.” He spoke, calmer this time. 

Two tall and slender figures seemed to melt out of the shadows themselves. They moved on long limbs, even longer thin tails trailing behind them. The first one, the one leading, sported a pale skin with a lightly blue hue to it. A dark purple line runs across their face, from top to bottom on the right side and another diagonally across the other and spiraling along their arms and tail. The being sports two short horns on it’s head.  
The second one followed closely behind, their skin a pale green shade, with similar dark green lines running across their body. This one has a line of spikes running from the top of it’s head down it’s spine. Both of them stop in front of the throne and move to one knee as one. They raise their clawed right hand to their heart and bright white eyes fix on the mage on the throne. “Master Xanthos.” The blue one speaks with a soft, melodic voice. 

“I trust that you heard that sorry report.” Confirming nods meet him. “I want you to find that staff and the mage who took it. Bring me the staff undamaged. I do not need the boy necessarily if it causes too much trouble, though I'd be ... delighted if you'd bring him back as well. Focus on the staff though.” The blue being nods again. 

“Of course, Mylord. Any further instructions?” 

“Don’t let anyone stand in your way but don’t draw too much attention. No one to tell the tale when you get the staff. Return to me as swiftly as you can. And clean that up.” Now the green one grins, revealing a row of sharp teeth. 

“Our pleazure, Mylord.” He says, his voice rough like gravel and sharp. 

The Wizard waves dismissively. That’s all the two need to descend on the limp body of the fallen swordsman. When they slip out of the room silent as shadows a few moments later there’s nothing but bones left.


	2. Chapter 2

Silence greets him when Zaru wakes up. Not the normal kind of silence that comes with a small town tavern, that one that still carries laughter, talking, shouting and the usual sounds of a barroom beneath and a street outside. Complete, utter silence that he hasn’t heard even in the deepest of nights around here. 

The chestnut-haired thief kept very still as he strained to hear something, anything at all. When he couldn’t he dared to open his bright yellow eyes, slipping out of the bed into a crouched position on the ground in one flowing motion. His hand had found one of his long daggers as he moved. He took in the scene in the room but found it empty and completely untouched as far as he could see. After a few tense moments he stood up, satisfied that he was alone and out of danger so far. Still he kept the dagger at hand as he scanned the room again. 

Indeed he seemed to be alone and nothing seemed amiss. He grabbed the few pouches, bags and remaining weapons that lay waiting for him near the bed and donned his black cloak. When he glanced at the small bedside table he paused in his movements. It was empty, as he’d left it in the evening, but that was what actually disturbed him. He frowned and glanced at the window. Maybe it was that early? 

The light that came into the room did not match and time of day though, it was simple pure light in a diffuse way that seemed not right. The hair on his neck stood up as he decided to abandon this place as soon as he could. 

He cracked the door open and peered out into the dim hallway. It is as silent and still as his room and as the atmosphere in total would have made him believe. Still he waits for a few moments before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind himself soundlessly. He made his way into the taproom that is as deserted as he expected by now. He stops a few steps into the room and regards it silently. 

Everything is orderly, no undue messes on the floor besides the usual residue dirt common for this kind of place. Nothing seems misplaced, nothing hints at any kind of struggle. Not that he thinks he could sleep through the kind of trouble that would clear the place like this. It seems like everyone but him has simply vanished. As he looks over a glint of silver on the bar catches his eye as precious metals tend to do with him. His stomach drops as he inches closer. Quickly he identifies the small polished silver coin with the two snakes coiled around it’s rim. That they left it here and not where he expected it means they are also responsible. But why, why do that to the whole building, possibly the city for as quiet as it is, but leave him back to tell the tale? He still pockets the coin after a moment, it’s silver after all and he always does. He half expects something to happen now but it doesn’t.

When he slinks out of the dirty tavern that homed him for a while now he does it with less care than he did with his room. As things stand stealth is of no use to him.   
What greets him outside makes him stop. The street still looks the same, surely, but besides being completely lifeless there is also a thin fog laying over the ground going up to his calves. He stares for a moment before glancing up and down the street. Seeing no one he decides that they’d probably be in the center of the town if they want to meet him. He turns into the opposite direction naturally and makes to leave the town as quickly as his feet will carry him. 

He comes to a stop at the outskirts of the town. Here the fog is so thick that he can’t see anything even a few paces in front of him. The fog just comes up like a wall all of a sudden, because while it is thicker where he stands it still does not go higher than maybe two-thirds of his legs. He balls his empty fist and stares, willing the curtain to simply lift at his will. It does not and he is not a brave enough man to just go into the unknown like this. 

His fingers go for one of his pouches and he fingers the silver coin from earlier from it. He can identify those blind now, but he still glances down at it with a deep scowl. Then he draws his hand back and simply hurls the gleaming token out into the deep fog. The gleam vanishes as it crosses that invisible line of fog. He strains to listen and waits for a long time.   
Finally he accepts that no noise will come from the coin hitting anything. He is really relieved that he didn’t just go into this earlier. 

With a deep sigh he turns back around on his heel and starts going up to the center of the town, much slower than he went into this direction. Outwitted by them, again. 

What he finds in the center of the city is not what he expected though. He stops warily at the edge of the big and notably empty place that usually houses markets and events. His dagger moves into a position ready to strike or defend on instinct alone. Already here are three other people. 

One of them is elven, pointed ears poking through long deep blue hair as silver-blue eyes move to him. He stands taller than him by a good two heads. His silken robes that flow around him in shades of blue and green identify him as a mage. He wears several smaller pouches around his belt but seems to travel light outside of that. He does not show any further reaction, but for all Zaru knows he might just ready a spell for him. 

The next is a Val’Altar of impressive stature. He’s a wolf by form, though bipedal, and stands taller than the human thief by at least one and a half heads he thinks, maybe a bit more. His fur is mostly a light gray on the front of him with darker shades and brown streaks joining in on his back. He wears light trousers and a short-sleeved shirt but no shoes. He knows these animal-spirited folks do stay connected to nature at all times, or so they say, but outside of that he doesn’t know much. He does not move for the impressive sword on his back but his muscles strain and his ears move back a bit. Hard gray eyes focus on him where he stands. He knows this beast-man could probably tear him in half without any weapon if he got his clawed hands on him. This one does not move, though. Zaru does likewise.

The third one is Aerian though, she is of fair stature and a few hands shorter than him maybe. Her skin is pale and her hair is blond as the sunlight where it falls around her shoulders. Iridescent orange eyes blaze at him as the pearly white wings on her back flare open. She is wearing flowing white and gold garments, airy and open, as well as quite a bit golden jewelry around her wrists and neck. Her right hand holds a short golden priests-mace and there’s a curved gold-covered knife on her belt. He does not know her emblems, he’s not familiar with the aerian mythology or their believes too much, but he can identify her as a priest on first glance. 

Zaru is ready to spring away at any moment as seconds of tense silence pass between the four of them, unwilling to be without defense he does not lower is weapon even an inch. He stares at them, his yellow eyes moving between them in the shadow of his hood. 

Before anyone says something or does something some of them might regret an additional figure blinks into existence in the center of the place and draws attention away from the newcomer. This one wears a long flowing silver cloak falling around him like liquid that covers everything of his form and his hood seems to hold only darkness. 

“Now that all five of you are finally here I suppose we should get to the reason for this.” Somehow the voice holds no tone, no inflection and does not betray anything about the speakers identity as it floats over the open space. Zarus eyes fly from one to the other and he can see the other three do the same. There’s four of them here, not five. The hood fixes on one of the rooftops to Zarus right side as he speaks again. “It would be polite of you to join the rest of us as well.” 

A slim figure dressed in dusty grays and black slips from the roof the figure indicated and lands on the floor in absolute silence. It’s a female, probably human by the looks of her, long white hair tied back into a braid that disappears into the folds of the clothes on her back. Her bronze skin indicates a southern origin. She wears a short sword and a long dagger on her belt as well as a few pouches the thief can see on first glance. Her clothing is flowing enough to hide most of her stature and her muddy brown eyes have a predatory gleam to them as she fixes their host. He guesses a similar occupation to his from everything he sees all at once. At least they have to stand on the same side of usual laws. 

“How?” She speaks and manages to put an impressive amount of venom into this single word. He knows what she means at once, and by the expressions the other three wear they hadn’t noticed the woman before either. 

“We have invited you here so of course we know you are there.” The figure speaks again. Does not explain anything really Zaru thinks to himself. The newcomers face darkens into a scowl but she does not get a chance to voice her displeasure.

“So you are responsible for this?” The elf says now, his voice a melodic tone that makes even this sentence sound like a song as he speaks the common tongue. His hand describes a graceful arc around himself encompassing their surroundings in general. 

The hood nods at that. “Yes. We displaced you temporarily as to ensure a talk without distractions. We will return you unharmed once we are done here and everything will go back to normal.” A pause as he turns to the aerian and back to the mage. “Your full capabilities will be returned to you as we reconnect you with the realm as well.” 

The Aerians wings flutter a bit at that before she folds them neatly at her back again. Relief seems to pass through her eyes.

The Elf gives a single nod to signal his understanding. 

“We brought you here because we want to enlist your help in a matter of utmost importance. An artifact of great magic has been found just recently. The Staff of Maestras, some of you should know that name. The others only need to know that it holds immense power and right now it is under threat of falling in the wrong hands. The allegiances of the one having a hold on it now are unclear to us, but the ones who want it most are not the ones who should have it. We want you to find it and secure it for us so that it does not fall into dark hands.” He explains then. There is a moment of silence before the Val’Altar is the first to speak. 

“Who are you, then? What hands are we to deliver it into?” The wolf speaks, his voice a rough rumble from deep within his chest. Zaru can’t help but glance over at him. So he isn’t entangled with them already. What of the others? 

“We are The Order Of The Moonsnake.” He says. Zaru observes the others for reactions. The Aerian seems guarded about this but not set off. The Elf and the Val’Alter nod after a moment, neither of them seem to think negatively of that revelation. He suspects the Elf knew by the flash in his eyes. He can’t quite judge the reaction of the woman who joined them last, her eyes narrowed a bit as she studied the others. Their eyes meet for a moment, or at least it seems that way. He is still wearing his hood after all. He looks back to the front again. 

“If it’s powerful it’s dangerous.” He observes finally as he thinks the silence lasted long enough. “What exactly do you expect any of us to do?” They don’t expect him to walk to his death just on their word, do they? He crosses his arms. 

“We expect you as a group to try your best to retrieve the staff for us. We do not expect you to go into any more danger than strictly necessary which is why you all were selected. We do not expect you to risk your lives unduly and it will be worth it.” 

“What if we can’t?” He shoots back before anyone else has a chance to interrupt. 

“Then it will still be worth your while. Consider it a debt repaid either way and more if you succeed, dear Falcon.” He says. The figures arm moves and a silver streak flies towards the thief. 

He catches it with nimble fingers and does not even glance at it as he drops it into his purse. Another token and a reminder in his case. They also know he threw the first one away he suspects. “Fine.” Zaru hisses. If it means he can be more at peace as he sleeps he’ll do it. And it seems like he does not really have a choice. 

“It will be worth your while for all of you, of course no matter the outcome. We can reward you handsomely for success.” The bronze skinned woman glances at him and back at the cloaked figure in the middle of the place at those words. 

“I’m in if you pay.” She announces as her gaze wanders back to the thief.

“It is my duty to protect the realm from dark forces so I’ll join your cause.” The Aerian says solemnly. 

“My sword is yours.” The Val’Altar announces as he bows his head for a moment. 

“I will join as well, I suppose.” The Elf speaks last only after watching the other’s reactions with apparent interest. 

Not quite the order he had suspected all things considered but enlightening all the same. 

“Very well. These will let you contact us if need be. It will also be helpful to you in the future. It would be wise to keep this one.” And now he looks at him Zaru realizes so they now for sure. 

A gleaming golden disk appears in front of him, spinning lazily in the air at chest height. He looks it over and glances towards the others. All of them have been presented with identical disks. He sees the Elf take his and waits a heartbeat before following suit. He does not truly suspect foul play but still he feels all the better for it. This one is warm to the touch, as big as the palm of his hand. The familiar snakes wind around it’s outer rim but the inside is filled with a ring of wholly unfamiliar runes that the silver smaller tokens are missing. After a glance it vanishes into a separate of his pouches. 

“This here will help you track the staff. It won’t give an exact location or distance but an idea where to go. It is the best we can do.” A shard of crystal, jagged and dark appears in front of the elf now. “Keep is safe, it is all the help we can give.” 

The elf nods. “I will.” He says as he takes the shard and studies it. Interest shows in his face as he turns it around in his hands before looking back up. 

“If no one has any more questions we will bring you back to your realm.” A few moments of silence stretch before the figure nods. “Good Luck. May the Moon enlighten you.” The figure speaks and blinks out of existence just as he appeared. A moment later the surroundings start to shimmer and melt away….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's what should be the second chapter. Like this or pretty similar. 
> 
> Zaru is my favorite character out of the batch and what is kind of a main character as well. Though the whole group would be a focus as they are revealed, Zaru is just a character that I nursed and build in a long time. He might even resurface in other, absolutely unrelated works in the future just because. 
> 
> Outside of that, that damn Order Of The Moonsnake would need another name if that ever goes anywhere, but I'm bad at names and so they don't really have one yet. Yep.   
> Anyway as said before there's like a few scenes I could still write for this if anyone cares, or if my minds absolutely wants me to. Let's see. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little tidbit that could probably come after the first two. Maybe not directly and it'd only be a bit of a chapter but it is what it is for now. Might be a few more smaller tidbits like this in the future.

After a lot of arguing that day they had actually not made a lot of progress in the direction Lafaralli’s spell had indicated. It wasn’t surprising after all when all was said and done, and truth be told Zaru was happy enough that there was no open hate anymore. They’d agreed on a truce for the purpose of their quest and that was good enough for the thief. He hadn’t planned on making any friends out here.

Now they sat around in a light forest, Rahki had build a small fire for everyone to sit around if they so wanted. The Val’Altar was probably the one with the most experience living in nature, followed closely by Zaru and probably the elf, Lafaralli. The other two seemed rather put off by being out here at all, but it was a necessary evil and no one really complained. 

A few moments later Rahki, Lafaralli and the Aerian, Illit, sat around the fire, while Evelnee had picked a log a few paces away from the rest to sit. Zaru watched for a few moments as the bronze-skinned woman cleaned her sword methodically before he sat down next to her. 

“I’d forget it, if I was you.” He said casually, dropping his hood and shaking his head slightly. After Illit had forcefully removed it earlier it didn’t really matter anymore, but he still felt exposed with it down. 

The other looked up from her sword and frowned at him. “What are you on about, hawk?” she asked, tone pointed.

Zaru sighed slightly. “I’ve seen the way you’re looking around. You’re thinking about ditching us. I’m not gonna stop you, I’m not gonna tell anyone, but I’ll warn you right now. If you leave, they’ll know. They’ll find you. I’m not sure if they’ll do anything, but they _will_ know where you are.” He didn’t need to tell her that they where not their other travel companions. 

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’d doubt that.” 

“Sure you do now. Let me tell you from experience. They know. I’ve spend a long time trying to run from them and they’ve always known where I am. It doesn’t matter where you go, what you try, they find you.” He explained.

His companion opened her mouth to say something, but Zaru held his hand up and continued, voice dropping by a notch. “I was young and cocky, heard a story about these guys and the riches they had. I found out where one of their bases was and got in. Thought I was doing great, went through there and grabbed a few of their riches and left. No one around to detect me either so I thought I got away with it. When I woke up I found one of their damned silver coins on my bedside. I got up and left as soon as I could, got rid of all of their stuff as fast as I possibly could, including the coin. Every time I got rid of one there was a new one the next morning. I stopped sleeping, got really paranoid. I thought they’d kill me one night or something, so I wanted to see them coming at least. At one point I couldn’t stay up, fell asleep way out in the wilderness. Found a new coin and a piece of paper next to me when I woke up. They addressed me by my name. Like my real name the one I haven’t been using in years. Told me there was no need to run, no use in it either, that I’d be dead if they’d have wanted that. I burned the thing but I believed them. Still get the coins every day. They’re damn useful sometimes and if not it’s still free silver.” 

There was a moment of silence, then Evelnee spoke again. “Damn. I appreciate the warning I guess.” 

The thief shrugged. “I wish someone had warned me before I got into their affairs. I think if you just do what they want us to do, or try at least, then you’ll be fine, but if you go back on your word with them I wouldn’t count on it.” He stretched his legs out a bit and glanced over to the fire and the other three. “I only tell you that because I like you the most out of this little company. Keep it in mind, I probably would have let the others run off without batting an eye.” He wasn’t quite sure where that honesty came from, but he did need some sort of ally around here and the woman was probably the most likely one.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story is something that's been in my head for a while. I just recently had more ideas for it so this work will get a few additional scenes in a bit.  
> This one is the beginning of the story and introduces the main focus of it. At least one more chapter will follow shortly, possibly two. More might be coming if anyone cares...


End file.
